Stopping it

"I am no savior to those who hurt. I am nothing like that!"

I take the rusty nail and place the tip against the hem of my dress. From this strange position, I swing the hammer and make contact. My grip is clumsy and very unsure, but I swing again. One....two...three...

"I am not so innocent as that!"

Four...Five and Six...

I am pinned at that point and I reach for another... Placing the tip of the rusty nail against the sleeve of my dress, I slam the side of the hammer head against the head of the nail. One...Two..."Oh crap!"

The nail falls to the floor and rolls away. I reach for another and place the tip as the one before it. I swing toward the nail head and my shaking hand. I do manage to miss my hand, miraculously and drive the nail in once...twice and another time to boot. I am pinned now, in several places with no pain. I think to myself that It would have been better through a foot or a thigh.

I can sense your presence out there somewhere, your long awaiting human scent. I lean against the wall and exhale long, slow and brilliantly. I know that I cannot be held by nail and fabric, what was I thinking. Maybe I wished for symbolic bondage to hold the other in place.

"Curse you! Why do you drive me insane?"

My hand fumbles with the last nail as I contemplate where I shall drive it. Placing it firmly above over my chest, I laugh uproariously.

As I hear the others from within, stirring and fumbling within their sepulchers, their tombs of delight, I grow silent. I drop the nail to the floor and put my hands together in prayer.

"Father...I cannot hold the fortress alone."

I feel your presence hold me and keep me much stronger than any nail or rope or bond.